


Bleeding Heart Ache

by Phoenexus



Series: Defector [3]
Category: Jackscepticeye - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Blood, Dressing wounds, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Grieving Mark, Gunshot Wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 03:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10585791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenexus/pseuds/Phoenexus
Summary: “Sit back down you baby,” Jack rolled his eyes, but his voice was still full of tension. “We gotta take care of it so it doesn’t get infected."Mark awakes to find Jack, a recluse in the middle of desert, making two cups of coffee. Jack, though cold and tense on the outside is actually a sweet heart and does his best to tend to Mark. If only Mark could remember something he desperately needs to tell him…





	

Mark woke with the smell of strong, black coffee in the air. There was a hint of summer sweat and a breeze from an open window. Mark’s eyes blinked open hesitantly and then all at once when he noticed how bright the walls looked. He was in an unfamiliar setting and he almost burst to his feet in alarm.

“Easy,” someone said by his side as he sat up fully. There was a sharp sting in Mark’s side, a reminder of a broken rib just beginning to heal. He flinched and turned to notice the same man from before crouching near him. He had to coffees in hand and a caring, slightly concerned smile on his face. He offered a mug to Mark, who graciously accepted it, and then turned to sit on a nearby chair.

“How are ya feeling today?” the guy asked before he took a small sip of his mug. Mark’s throat was too dry to allow him to speak, so he just took a sip. There was such a strong punch of coffee flavor, pure black, that he felt his face scrunch up. Despite that, it was relaxing and comforting. Pure caffeine flowed through his veins, helping him wake up and easing the pain. Still, he felt skittish in this new setting.

“Name’s Jack,” The guy offered with an extended hand. Mark took it with a nervous handshake.

Jack was so much more welcoming and calming than he had been outside the bookstore. His once cold blue eyes melted to a shining, warm water. He seemed to fit into place in these new, homey surroundings. It was clear that he belonged here.

“Mark,” Mark found his voice and then took another sip of the strong stuff.

Jack nodded and curiously looked him over, searching for wounds Mark assumed. Still, Mark shuffled uncomfortably under Jack’s strong gaze. Jack, noticing the discomfort, returned to his coffee with a mumbled apology not fully heard.

Mark couldn’t remember what happened. He knew it was bad and that he was aching all over. He glanced at his arms, seeing bruises and cuts that had been dressed with a mixture of band-aids and cloths, messily laid out.

What really hurt was his leg that was throbbing to the beat of his heart. He was afraid to move it, but he did. He cried out and Jack was on his feet.

“Don’t move!” He shouted to Mark and raced away with unmatchable speed.

Jack really was always rushing around, on the move. Even when sitting down, there was a finger drumming out a beat on his legs or against his cheek. Or he’d be fidgeting with his hands slightly, brushing a piece of green hair out of his face and rocking his feet back and forth. How could so much energy be inside such a tiny guy?

Jack returned with a soft grey washcloth that was slightly damp. He moved the covers that had been thrown over Mark and they both got a look at the covered wound, bleeding through the gauze wrapped roughly around it. Jack had tried to clean it clearly, but wasn’t the best medic. With a nod of permission from Mark, Jack pulled the cover off carefully. Mark breathed in sharply as Jack exposed the wound.

“Shit,” Jack commented breathlessly. “That looks painful.” He looked up at Mark who gave him a look of disappointment at the obviousness of the comment. Jack only chuckled slightly and then his eyes fell back to the deep wound.

At least the bullet had run clean through so they didn’t have to worry about getting that out. That was the nicest thing about the government’s gun supplies; they really were quite powerful and could blast through almost anything, let alone a person.

“Do you remember what happened last night?” Jack asked Mark as he moved to put the washcloth over the wound. Mark grimaced with the sharp pain of water. He tried not to rip to far into Jack’s comfortable couch with his nails or to move out of the way and run for the door.

“I-I don’t know…” Mark tried to answer with gritted teeth. Jack kept the washcloth there and looked up at Mark as he sat on his knees on the floor. He looked concerned, sweet and so unlike the man who had killed the soldiers heartlessly. He really was a complication in how expressed himself.

That’s what happened last night! The soldiers had come for Mark, though he couldn’t remember why, and had attacked him. They shot him and then Jack came in as if he were wearing a hero’s cape. If it hadn’t been for Jack…

“You were attacked,” Jack explained as he looked at the wounds on Mark’s face. Mark reached up and felt the dried blood on his forehead. There would be a nasty scar there, no doubt.

“I can’t imagine why though…” Jack trailed off as if he expected a response. When Mark only stared at him blankly, Jack continued with what happened.

“I was just returning from personal business when I saw them take to the street. You were defenseless and so I stepped in to help.” The way he told the story was so effortless and calm that Mark wondered how often Jack had wounded strangers in his house. Maybe it was often. It must get lonely out in the desert, so any company would be better than none at all. Mark had noticed by looking out the window that they were far away from the town. You could only see tumbleweeds, heat waves and pure blue sky. It was breathtaking, lonesome and private.

“Then I brought you here,” Jack continued after another sip of coffee. “Which is when you fell out of it. Fuckin’ hell by the way, ya were bleeding all over the place I thought you’d just fall apart or something before I brought you in.” He removed the cloth from the wound and began to walk out of the living room section and into the semi-kitchen behind a marble bar.

It was a sweet room, simple and happy. With sky blue painted walls and a painting of a sunflower hanging directly across from Mark. There were some other flowers around, african daisies, some poppies and even a bundle of random ones of various yellows and oranges. There was a tv with a speaker by it and the other basic technological necessities around. It was as if a rustic cottage and an industrial apartment had merged together into a peaceful oasis. Mark found serenity in his surroundings.

Jack returned again with a nervous look on his face. In his steady hands sat a needle and spool of thread. Nope.

“Sit back down you baby,” Jack rolled his eyes, but his voice was still full of tension. “I won’t do it now, but we gotta take care of it so it doesn’t get infected. Considering what ya’ve been through, this’ll be nothin’.” That may be true, but Mark wouldn’t have it. He stood to his feet despite it. He quickly began to fall forwards.

Jack was there in a flash and was catching him before he collapsed on the coffee table. He was stronger than he looked, another thing that Mark hadn’t noticed when he first looked at Jack. Mark was helped back into his seat on the couch as Jack shook his head.

“What?” Mark asked in response. Jack just continued shaking his head with added chuckling. He placed the needle and spool on the coffee table and sat in the chair close by, hugging his knees to his chest.

“I now know why Woosh gets annoyed when she tries to help me with my wounds,” He chuckled with a lovesick, romantic cover over his eyes.

“I was wondering if you lived alone out here,” Mark responded. “I was figuring it’d get lonely.”

 

Jack nodded, his eyes glazed over with thought. “Yeah, it would. But not with her.” Mark gazed around, as if he expected this girl to saunter in and wonder who he was. However, Jack and him seemed to be alone out here in the wilderness and heat.

“Where is she?” Mark wondered out loud.

“Out and about,” Jack responded as he stood to his feet and moved around the room, adjusting little things that Mark hadn’t noticed. A small picture frame of him and a girl with round sunglasses and a messy bun. They were dressed in casual clothes and looked to be at a beach of sorts. Then another photograph next to it had the same girl with a serious look on her face, gun in hand and mud coating her navy boots. She looked like she’d tear someone’s throat out.

“What’s she doing?” Mark dared to ask as he looked at Jack, who was still fixing little things as if it were habit. Jack sighed and looked back at Mark from across the room. He took an apple from the little, mostly empty fruit bowl. What a luxury of the Below, to have an apple or any fruit in his house.

“Fighting,” Jack admitted as he looked down at the apple he tossed between his hands. He stopped and his eyes travelled to where Mark. He sighed again and placed the apple back in the bowl.

“It’s not that I don’t trust ya,” Jack said. Mark knew this wasn’t true but let Jack continue. “But…I…Okay yeah I don’t trust you. You don’t need to know what she does.” He was fiercely devoted to her and stood without moving for a bit, staring into Mark’s eyes with a cold stare. Mark finally looked away.

“Is she a rebel?” Mark spoke before he could stop himself. Jack sucked in a breath. He didn’t respond and Mark took that as a confirmation.

“I don’t really care,” Mark shrugged. “I don’t have any problem with it.” He didn’t. All he felt was…guilty. He couldn’t place his finger on why exactly.

Jack seemed to relax behind him. He walked back to the couch and to the coffee mug that was getting colder by the second. Jack took a sip and looked disappointed by the heat. He still took another one anyway.

“That’s a relief,” Jack finally responded. “I mean, some of the people down here don’t like to get caught up in our politics. They dislike us a lot. Plus, I had no clue why you were challenging those mother fuckers out there, but I figured it was because you had some connection with them. ” There was a beat of a pause. “You didn’t strike me as a rebel.”

“I’m not,” Mark admitted.

“Then why were they attacking you of all people?” Jack halfway muttered, halfway expected a response. He looked confused, like he was actually trying to wrack his brain for an answer. Sadly, Mark couldn’t help him.

“I have no clue,” Mark honestly answered. “I feel like it was something…important, but…”

“It’s a concussion,” Jack suddenly interrupted. “I betcha that you have a concussion right now and that’s makin’ things fuzzy. Ya look like a fuckin’ wreck after all so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Mark sheepishly shrugged, slightly self-conscious by his battered appearance. There was nothing he could do until he felt better, but still he felt that he should’ve taken more time before leaving…it was still fuzzy. He couldn’t place why he left in a hurry.

“Anyway,” Mark turned to a new subject. “I respect your girlfriend and the work she’s doing.” Jack seemed to beam with pride.

“She’s incredible,” Jack nodded. “She’s an artist ya see. At least, she was and was fuckin’ awesome. Then she joined up with the rebellion right before she met me.” Jack grinned at the photograph of the girl he had adjusted earlier, no doubt that was his girlfriend.

“That must be nice,” Mark said. “Knowing you are protected by the rebellion because of her.” To this, Jack simply chuckled and took Mark’s finished mug and his own to the kitchen.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh,” Jack chuckled. “It’s nothing really.” He returned to Mark and gave a head motion to the needle and thread. It was time.

Mark braced himself for the soon to come pain, but Jack first slathered a soft pink colored cream upon his leg.

“Numbs the area,” He explained. Mark didn’t believe him, but allowed Jack to do it. After all, if it did help that would relieve part of the aches and pains in his body. It was cool, but comforting on his skin, like putting on a cold washcloth over your face after a hard workout. It didn’t sting like the washcloth had, which was the most relieving.

Once that was done, Jack took the needle in two shaky fingers. He bit his lower lip and Mark could tell that he didn’t do this often. Jack’s eyes were wide, fearful and then narrowed with determination when he noticed how nervous Mark looked.

“I’ve done this before,” Jack said. Mark wasn’t sure if who this was supposed to relieve. Mark looked away in anticipation for the worst.

The needle went in quickly and Mark found himself only feeling a dull pang in his leg, but nothing more. The whole ordeal seemed to be over quickly with Jack’s skilled, but still shaky work. It wasn’t pretty, but it would hold the skin together so that he could heal. The whole process had to be repeated once more to stitch up the exit hole.

When Jack was finished, he looked sweaty and pale, as if this had been an intense workout instead of a stitch up. His fingers were covered in tiny speckles of Mark’s blood and they still shook. He gave an anxious look to Mark, who gave him a genuine thumbs-up. Jack’s face brightened slightly.

“You'llll start to feel it in a few hours,” Jack warned Mark as he stood to his feet. “But I’m sure if ya get some sleep, it won’t be that bad, speaking from past experience.”

Mark felt his eyelids beginning to droop on command and nodded. He had so many questions and wanted to know as much as he could about the area around him. He felt as if he had to tell Jack something desperately, but couldn’t remember what it was. Everything would have to wait until he was more clear headed and awake.

Once again, Mark was out.

– ✴ –

When Mark woke up, the atmosphere had shifted dramatically. First of all, he no longer was resting on the couch. He found himself in a bed in a forgotten room judging by the dust lining the bedside table to his left. Second of all, it seemed to be later in the day. Far later. Was it even the same day?

To tell the truth, Mark wasn’t really sure how long it had been since he had been awake. He couldn’t remember anything at first and suddenly things began to return. Things he had almost forgotten.

Mark was on his feet like a rocket, throwing the covers off and jumping to the cold floor. He was barefoot and his pants were rolled up to expose his wound. When he put weight on the bullet wounded leg, he winced and fell backwards back onto the bed. He collapsed completely, his back pressed against the soft mattress.

“You got this,” He murmured as he tried to coax himself out of bed. “You can do this…” He took a deep breath and rolled back onto his feet, taking care to favor the healthy leg.

Though he could still feel a dull pain, it was bearable and was able to walk to the door. He reached the doorknob, leaned on it for a short moment and then opened it slowly.

The hallway was also sky blue like the living room he had been in earlier. It was minimal with only a table where several guns sat. Mark shivered as he looked at the guns, but moved forwards. He trusted Jack. After all, if Jack had wanted to kill him, he would’ve done so. He had so many opportunities after all.

In fact, for the first time since Amy died, Mark felt alright. He felt comfortable in these surroundings and the kindness that Jack has displayed. For the first time in a while, he felt like he had another friend besides Amy.

When he entered the familiar living room, his attention turned to the door, where Jack was speaking gruffly with someone else. He had a straightened back and Mark had no doubt that his eyes were narrowed and just as icy as they always were when serious.

He was talking to someone with a loud voice. Jack was loud in general, but usually not sharp. Or nearly as sharp as he was then. Mark decided not to disturb or try to listen in, so he crept away without a sound back to the guest bedroom he laid in. He limped back to the bed and sat on it for a bit.

The room is small and cozy with two square windows covered by curtains to prevent the sun from waking Mark up. When Mark went to open them, he saw that it was evening and the sun was falling again. The sky was flaming orange with streaks of lovely watercolor blue fading to purple. The colors were incredible and he felt a pang of hurt when he wished that Amy could be there with him to look at it all.

When he heard Jack coming down the hallways, he attempted to get back into bed. However, as he turned to do so, the door opened to reveal the irritated, but kind face of Jack. He held a small envelope in his hands and leaned against the doorframe to peer at Mark.

“Nice to see you awake,” He commented. Mark closed the curtains and stepped towards Jack.

“How long was I out?” Mark asked to which Jack folded his arms and looked upwards, as if counting.

“Six…no seven days I believe?”

Mark was flabbergasted. A day he could believe, two was possible, but seven! He had been unconscious for seven days? It seemed like only yesterday that he had gotten the plans for-

“Oh God Jack,” Mark suddenly exclaimed with a low voice. “I gotta-”

“Hey relax,” Jack responded. “It’s alright Mark. Just lay down or something okay.” Mark moved to sit on the bed and Jack followed him. “Do ya want some water? I’ll get ya some water.” Jack was a very gracious host.

The bomb. That was the piece of information he was forgetting the last time him and Jack had fully spoken. Now, was it too late? Had the Above continued working on it without Mark’s help and was it to be launched at any time now? Mark bit down on his lip hard, punctuating the scratch that was beginning to heal.

“Be careful,” Jack warned as he came back into the room with a glass of water. Mark thanked Jack as he handed it to him. Mark gulped it down and Jack sat down beside him.

“You kept fading in and out,” Jack explained. “So I figured I’d just move ya to this extra room if you’d just sleep forever.” Jack cracked a grin that Mark couldn’t help returning. Why was it that Jack could just take the pain away from situation?

What’s that?” Mark asked as he caught a glimpse of the letter in Jack’s hand. Jack’s smile fell slightly.

“Letter from Wiishu,” Jack responded. “She has to stay longer than we planned ‘cause of complications.” He looked tired, irritated and the way he glanced at the letter made Mark jealous. What he’d give for a letter from Amy just about right now. His heart gave him a pang of grief.

“Complications,” Mark echoed. “That’s tough.” Jack nodded and just stared down at his feet covered in a pair of black socks. They were old and a hole exposed one of the toes.

Mark folded his arms into his chest. He missed Amy. Though Jack was great company and he enjoyed him, he really did, but Amy was his world. His world was now gone. His eyes were growing glossy.

It was then that Mark remembered what he had to tell Jack. With tear filled eyes he turned to him.

“Mark,” Jack paused, unsure. “What’s wrong?” Mark dropped his arms and rubbed the tears from his eyes. He turned back to Jack again.

“You have to know something…something about me,” He croaked nervously. “I…well the reason those…” He paused and decided to use what Jack called the soldiers. “Mother fuckers.”

Pause followed by a smirk from Jack.

“Were after me was because I used to work in the Above.” Jack’s face fell and he began to get up, but Mark grabbed his arm and looked into Jack’s eyes, into his soul. “I swear to God Jack that I’m not with them anymore. I think that’s clear based on the fact that they almost killed me.”

Jack sat back down and Mark removed his iron grip with an apology on his lips. Jack still looked worried, but as Mark took another breath, he seemed to calm slightly.

“They want to build a bomb,” Mark started again. “They want to build a bomb and God I was assigned to it. I didn’t want to do it, so…so…” His voice cracked and failed him again. It got quiet for a moment and tears were rolling down Mark’s cheeks again. “They killed Amy, my girlfriend.” Jack paused before letting Mark fall into his arms, shaking slightly from the tears.

“She was tortured and they sent me a box with her teeth and a fucking ear in it,” Mark responded with a hollow voice. “It was that day that it clicked. I’d have to get out of there. So I ran away with a plane. I crashed. That’s how I got some of these wounds. Can’t fly well it turns out.” He chuckled through the pain with slurred movements. Jack said nothing, but hugged Mark tightly, afraid to let go in case Mark fully lost it. Deep down, Mark truly appreciated it.

There was a small moment of silence between the two men, both grieving together. It was touching and Mark was thankful, so very thankful that Jack had found him. As Mark laid in his arms, he wondered what the odds were that they had found each other. It was too good to be true and Mark let a smile grace his face. He closed his eyes.

“Where will the bomb be sent,” Jack finally spoke, his voice dead and serious. Mark opened his eyes. He tried to remember for a moment, his mind blanking. Then it came to him.

“Copperston.”

Jack’s shoulders fell away and he was up on his feet with widened eyes. He raced out the room without another thought, leaving Mark to trail after him curiously.

“What’s going on?” Mark asked, though he figured he knew the answer. Jack didn’t respond at first as he was scrambling around for his jacket and boots. He returned to the hallway and his hand rested on a small handgun.

“Wiishu’s there,” Jack could only say as he shoved the gun in a coat pocket.

He turned to Mark anxiously, appearing so much smaller than he already was. His hands were fidgeting together and he can’t look Mark in the eyes. Mark reached out to steady him by grabbing his face in two strong hands. Jack closed his eyes and took a deep, relaxing breath. Mark dropped his hands and Jack finally focused on what he wanted to say.

“I’ll only be gone for a day or so,” Jack promised. “There’s food here and money in case ya need it.” He paused and bit his lip.

“I will be back. I swear.” Jack then turned to leave in a frantic rush and a slamming of the door.

**Author's Note:**

> I can't bring myself to stop writing until I finish! No promises, but maybe I'll finish this series this week! :D
> 
> Have a nice day!


End file.
